THE STEAMCHILD CHRONICLES PRESENTS: CHILDREN OF THE CLOCKWORK SKY

CHAPTER 3: THE IRON ROYALIST

In true Kingsland flare, the banner bearers, with flags of red and gold, preceded Lady Alianora and her party as they paced down the ramp, disembarking the fortress-like walker that had so viciously defeated its enemies only a an hour before. A resounding hiss bellowed through the air as the boilers let loose clouds of steam through arching vents that protruded from its rear.

The sound alone was enough to cause a flurry of distress among the men, women and children that remained huddled and hidden among the salvage and the scattered wreckage that was once the proud remnants of their raiding caravan. Even with their remaining horses, there was no sense in escaping, as they would be easy targets for the baroness and her men. Uncertain and frightened, they remained where they were, looking on as their finely uniformed conquerors contemplated their fate.

At the base of the ramp, Lady Alianora scanned the surrounding salvage, barely acknowledging the rabble of people who’s lives she held with vague scrutiny. The immaculate silver and blue military tunic she wore hugged her tall, slender form, which stood her out among the more heavy-set, broad-shouldered soldiers that surrounded her. The morning light reflected the outline of her silver trimmings, braids and buttons, matching the similarly silver glow of her long, wavy hair, as it fluttered, along with her shoulder-bound cape, against a cool, brisk breeze.

“I know what you’re thinking my lady,” a large, iron-chested officer said as he came up beside her, all the while, pruning dirt and dust with his white-gloved hands from his neatly trimmed, red beard.

She almost preferred that the man kept his distance, as she was not in the mood to have her regal presence overshadowed by the intimidations of someone, who’s gargantuan form seemed all the more similar to that of an immaculately carved stone sculpture, rather than that of a mortal being. She darted her red eyes in his direction for just a second, offering the slightest hint of respect. Had such words come from any other man, she would have deemed him both pretentious and offensive, but as she was well aware of his loyal decades of service to her family, she thought it only proper to allow him the right to speak as directly as he pleased.

“Oh?” she announced inquisitively. “Then what do you suppose that is?”

“A shallow victory at best.”

“Sir Ingram, you assume too much. I came here for the salvage and nothing else.”

“Yes, of course. . .a most honored gift to the King, your precious uncle, proclaiming your worth to him on this, your nineteenth birthday.” He nodded to his aide, who then passed his orders to the other soldiers to spread out and claim both prisoners and any items of value. He waited for the diligent clatter of his men to fill the air before he continued. “My lady, the men know what you want them to know. But I’ve been around your family long enough to realize when there are secrets about. It may not seem so strange to the men, or perhaps even the king, that you are the one offering gifts to him on your birthday, but you should understand that I am more than capable of seeing the meaning of things when they are least visible. There’s more to this. And as a soldier, I know bloodlust when I see it.”

“So you think I’m a soldier then?” It was more of a threat than a question, but Sir Ingram would not allow her to bait him, and instead, wisely kept silent and allowed her to continue. “Perhaps you are not well acquainted with the fact that I am a lady of the court, or at least that is what I am constantly told.“

“I worry sometimes that the Royal War Academy has changed you too much.”

“Would you rather that I attended the etiquette schools instead and learn the proper mannerisms of ladyship?”

“Sometimes, yes.”

“Then you’re no better than my uncle’s Royal Court. At least my father, God rest is soul, saw that I had more potential in uniform than I ever did in a dress.”